High School Apocalypse
by JesrinOngorvad
Summary: You thought that surviving high school was hard? For Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez, that's the least of their problems when a hydrogen bomb goes off in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and East High is attacked by a group of masked terrorists. What's going to happen to them? Will they survive the ultimate drama of an international crisis? Find out!
1. The Start of Something New

**High School Apocalypse**

**What would happen if Troy and Gabriella had to survive a hydrogen bomb attack together? With any luck, this story will answer that question. I hope you all enjoy this admittedly strange little twist…. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own High School Musical or any of the content therein.**

When Troy Bolton shouldered his backpack, stepped out of his house, and jumped into his pickup to make the monotonous, oh-so-familiar trip to school, he never knew that his life was going to change forever.

Of course, he wouldn't have known it. As he pulled up in his white Ford pickup, he noticed nothing abnormal about the school he had come to love. Students, some chatting animatedly with one another, others hurrying to their classes with stacks of books enfolded in their arms, were everywhere, all converging on the double-door entrance to the main hallway of East High. Troy stepped out of his truck, settled his backpack comfortably on his shoulders, and made for the door. He got a few greetings on the way, like "Hey, Troy!" or "What's up, Troy?" It just kind of went with the territory when you were the biggest basketball superstar on campus.

The day was mild and pleasant. It was warm, but not so much so that it was uncomfortable. There was a breeze, albeit a gentle one that served to compliment the heat in an inexplicably wonderful way. And—what was more—Troy was feeling exceptionally good today. He had a spring in his step, a renewed purpose in life. He didn't know why. But as he entered through the double-doors, he held his head high. He was without burdens today.

Then he remembered why. It had only been a week or two since he had sung with that girl at the New Year's Eve party. Gabriella Montez. The prettiest young woman he could ever remember meeting. And her voice…. Surely she was an angel to have such an amazing voice! Then that quintessential question entered his mind: Would he ever see her again? Would she ever answer his calls? Did she even remember him, or had she already forgotten about the whole experience and gone forward with her life? The latter possibility brought Troy's spirits low. Perhaps she _had _forgotten about everything. Perhaps Troy, too, would have to forget as well, or else risk driving himself mad? He didn't know.

"Hey, Troy!"

The voice belonged to Chad Danforth. Troy tore himself from his thoughts and greeted his best friend with a smile and a brotherly man-hug (as they called it around East High). It was good to see Chad again. As amazing as the New Year's Eve party was, Troy still appreciated and loved the people he had had in his life before he had met Gabriella.

"Hey, it's good to see you, Chad! How've you been?" The enthusiasm in Troy's voice completely masked the trouble inside him, but Chad was smarter than Troy's dissimulation.

"What's wrong, man?" Chad asked, and suddenly his face was filled with friendly concern. "Something happen on vacation?"

Troy shook his head. "No. Nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing _bad_, anyway."

"Hey. Troy. We've been best buds since kindergarten; you can tell me anything. Come on."

"Listen, I'm not going to give you any specifics, Chad, but I will tell you this: I'm not disappointed because anything _bad _happened. I'm disappointed because what _did _happen was so amazing that my normal life feels so… so… foreign…."

Chad nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean, Troy. Hey, it was the same way when I came back from that church camp a few months ago. Things felt so weird when I was in school again. But you know what? You really helped me through that time. So let me help you through this one."

"I just need some time to think about it, Chad."

"No problem, Troy. Let me know when you want to talk about it, though, alright?" Chad gave Troy an affectionate slap on the back and then hurried to his class.

It was the weirdest feeling ever. Troy felt like the happiest person on earth, but at the same time, he was filled with terrible despondence. It was a contradiction he hoped would resolve itself soon. It was an uncomfortable emotion at best.

Troy opened his locker and retrieved his science and mathematics books, stuffing them into his backpack. When he turned to head for class, he jumped back in surprise. Sharpay was standing only inches in front of him, a smile worthy of the Wicked Witch of the West on her face.

"Hi, Troy," she cooed with a little half-giggle.

"Hi," Troy replied, laughing nervously.

"So, how was vacation?"

"It was good. Great. Fantastic. Yeah, I really need to get to class…."

Sharpay moved closer to him. _Uncomfortably _closer. "I hope you still plan on coming to see me in the school musical…." Then with her voice lowered, she murmured, "You're my favorite."

Troy died a little inside. "Sharpay, you're freaking me out…."

"That feeling which you refer to as 'freaking out' is what the rest of humanity refers to as 'love,' Troy Bolton."

Then Troy vanished, and Sharpay, with a look of offense on her face, screamed, "You're not my favorite anymore!"

Troy shook his head and scratched his neck, looking over his shoulder to see if Sharpay was following him. No sign of her. He breathed a sigh of relief and rounded the corner to his class.

Then, something effloresced inside him. Something bloomed. Everything else ceased to exist. There was only that girl. That beautiful girl. That beautiful young woman.

Gabriella Montez. Halfway down the hallway. Gabriella Montez. Gabriella Montez.

There she was. Rich brown hair falling about her shoulders. Precious, breathtaking smile on her face. Eyes filled with something genuine Troy had never seen before. She looked his way, and Troy's jaw dropped open.

"Ga—Gabriella?" Troy muttered, in utter shock.

"Troy? Is that you?" Gabriella replied. She moved closer to him. Then she was only a foot away, and Troy felt sick. But it was the best kind of sickness he could ever have.

"I thought you… had gone home…?" Troy stammered. Then he gave himself a mental whipping. Great way to start a conversation. Try "I'm so glad you're here!" next time.

"My mom's employer transferred her here to Albuquerque! I just… I can't believe you're here! Maybe adjusting to the new environment will be easier with someone I know around."

"You—you have a tough time adjusting?" Troy said. He was breathless. He felt like his whole body had vanished and that, now, he was lighter than the air itself.

"Yeah. I'm always nervous when I go to a new school."

"Well, I'll see to it that this is your easiest transition yet."

Gabriella smiled. Troy felt faint.

"Listen, Troy, I really appreciate your openness and kindness. It's not every day I meet someone who accepts me so readily. Thank you."

Troy felt like his stomach was about to explode. "Hey, you're welcome. I mean, what are friends for, right?"

That silence. That silence before the storm.

Then, the storm.

Every light fixture in East High burst into hundreds of shards of glass.

Thousands of _chinks _as they fell, fell in torrents.

The foundations of life shook. A huge explosion.

Thrown. Thrown to the floor.

….

So much pain.

….

Ringing. Only ringing. Confused cries.

In. And out of consciousness.

"Troy!"

The voice. Not Gabriella's. Not Chad's. Someone else. Someone inside him.

"Get up."

Everything was muffled. Blurry. Looking through a window streaked with rainwater.

"Get up. You can't die here."

What… what was that… that explosion…?

Something warm on his cheek. Trickling down his face. Down his neck. Blood. Covering his fingers. His face.

People running. So many people running.

He massaged his forehead. The window and the rainwater were being pulled back. "What… was that…." he cried. He dabbed at the blood. He could barely hear himself. Everything was muffled. There were more muffled explosions. More of them. Coming from everywhere.

But Gabriella didn't seem to hear him. She was staring absently at something that he couldn't see. Her eyes were empty. No intelligence. No emotion. She had become a pale cadaver—a creature without an inside. A shell.

"Gabriella?"

Troy put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in close to her, speaking in earnest. "Gabriella, are you alright? Gabriella, please!"

She was shaken from her reverie, and her eyes turned to look directly into Troy's.

"Troy. Troy. Troy!"

With every utterance of his name, her agitation grew. She buried herself in his arms.

"Troy! Troy! Hold me! Please!"

"It's going to be alright." He held her close. Stroked her hair. "We need to get out of here." He started for the door.

Gabriella held Troy tightly, tears forming in her eyes. "No!" Her lips quivered. She barely managed to say, "That was a hydrogen bomb, Troy. I know it. I've studied it before. I don't know what's going on… running won't help…."

"Hydrogen bomb… what…?"

"Yeah…. Troy…." She was breathless, and her tears kept coming.

"Who launched it? Why'd they do it? How close was it?

"Maybe three miles, four miles… I don't know, Troy…! Why would I know?"

"I'm sorry, I just…."

"Never mind. Come on. Lowest level. That's the best place to be… if another bomb… if another bomb…."

She fell into unconsciousness. Troy hefted her over his shoulder. He started forward.  
Then, he heard gunshots—the sound of more glass exploding. All around him, men clothed in black were appearing, armed with automatic machine guns, frag grenades dangling from their belts. Troy hurried to the nearest staircase, only a hundred feet or so down the main hallway. He opened the door, closed it behind him, descended the flight with anxious steps. The men didn't follow.

He was in the lowest level of the school. Everything was completely dark. The concrete floor was littered with glass. Explosions and gunfire erupted above. He hurried down the hallway, kicked a door open at the far end, hurried inside. It was small, but it would do. Troy laid Gabriella down next to the far wall, and he fell limp against the corner, groaning. He was sore everywhere. That ringing… that shockwave… it must have hurt him. Hurt him badly. Not just outside, but inside. He closed his eyes. Then he felt Gabriella's hand against his, and he looked at her.

"Gabriella…." he muttered.

"Troy, you're hurt badly," Gabriella cried.

"It's just a scratch…."

"No, it's worse than that. It's a really terrible gash. On your cheek. I need to find something to clean it…."

"I'm fine…."

"Quit being stubborn and let me help you!"

"I'm not being stubborn!"

Gabriella huffed, folded her arms over her chest, and nodded. "Case in point." Then she opened the cabinet at the other end of the room, searched through it, and found the first aid supplies. She produced a strip of gauze, some masking tape, a bottle of ointment, and some paper towels. She ran water over the towels, cleaned Troy's gash, and dressed it up with the gauze and ointment. Then she settled herself against the wall, drew herself up into the fetal position, buried her face in her knees….

"Thank you, Gabriella. I'm… I'm sorry…."

But she didn't respond.

They were silent for a long time. Troy couldn't help but think of his friends on the surface. He wondered if any of them were still alive. Was it even possible? With all of those men flooding into East High, did they even have a chance?

Why was this happening? Who was doing this? Who dropped that hydrogen bomb? What kind of people did these wicked, terrible things? What kind of people committed so many cold-blooded murders?

Troy looked to his right and saw that Gabriella was shivering and shaking with her sobs. He moved closer to her and put his arm around her, drawing her close. She accepted his offer of comfort without hesitation. Troy tried to stay strong and repress his own sorrow, but he couldn't do it. Soon, they were both sobbing with, letting all of their emotions escape through their tears. Troy held Gabriella close; she held him back. The explosions and gunfire continued to rattle and rattle in an endless altercation above.

"You know, when I had hoped that our friendship was the start of something new, Gabriella, this wasn't what I had in mind," Troy remarked, smiling.

Gabriella laughed, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her cardigan. "Me neither."

"So, what do we do now?" Troy asked. For being such an admired basketball player and a popular high school student, he felt utterly ineffectual right now. This was the last thing he had expected to ever happen to him.

Gabriella sighed and pulled away from Troy. "We wait here. This whole ordeal is going to get international attention, Troy. The Army will be here soon, and they'll search this whole place for survivors. We just have to wait for them. Don't worry. They'll come."

Comforted, Troy leaned back again and closed his eyes. "Why did this happen, Gabriella?"

Gabriella whimpered. "I don't know, Troy." She bit her lip as fresh sorrow assaulted her again. "But it's going to be alright… it's going to be alright…."

"_We grow the most in the hard times, you know. And I didn't know it at the time, but this whole mess—the bombing, the attack on East High—was really the start of something new. Something so new and so crazy that I couldn't even begin to imagine it."_

_From the diary of Troy Bolton._


	2. Get'cha Head in the Game

**High School Musical Apocalypse**

_Chapter II: Get'cha Head in the Game_

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own High School Musical or any of the content therein.**

_Troy…._

…_._

…_._

_Troy Bolton. It's time to get up…._

Troy stirred. That voice. It kept nagging him. Pestering him. It wouldn't leave him alone.

He was quite content to stay here, leaning against the wall, with Gabriella in his arms.

Besides, he reasoned, the pain had gotten worse. Now, he could barely stand, and Gabriella was no better. The Army would be here soon enough. They just needed to rest now.

_Troy._

_Get. Up._

Troy's eyes flashed opened. He sighed, let go of Gabriella, settled her comfortably against the wall, struggled to his feet with a groan. "Who are you? And why do you keep speaking to me?"

_Because you need to get up. They are going to bring East High down. _

"How?"

_Get up._

Troy felt his stomach squirm. Bring this high school down? He touched Gabriella's shoulder and shook her ever so slightly. "Time to get up. We need to get out of here."

Gabriella leaned up. "Troy, I already told you. It's safer down here…."

"No, I really feel like we need to go. I think that… well… that they are going to destroy East High…."

"What!"

"Yeah…."

"Why now? They… they could've done it a million times already. If they haven't brought it down yet, they aren't going to…."

Troy coughed. "Yeah. Um. Yeah…. Listen, it's kind of hard to explain. Just… just believe me, will you?"

Gabriella searched Troy's face for some sign of his reasoning, then nodded in final resignation, concern in her reply. "Yeah, I'll go, Troy. Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine."

Next moment, he had crashed to the floor, coughing up blood. He tried to get to his feet, but the pain was more intense than ever now. He winced. It was like someone was putting a knife in between each of his ribs.

"Troy!"

Gabriella knelt at his side, looking at him earnestly. She held fast to him. "Troy! Troy! Stay with me. It's going to be alright."

Troy tried to get to his feet again. He stumbled. He tried again. The same result. All the while, Gabriella protested. "Troy! You're not well. Rest. Please."

"We _need _to get out of here, Gabriella. Just please, listen to me."

_Get up, Troy. _

Troy mustered every ounce of his strength. One foot down. Then two. Squatting. Then he extended his knees, fighting the urge to cry. Finally. Standing. He felt his legs give out. Gabriella was there, catching him—providing needed support. Troy's face was stained with tears of pain.

"I'm sorry, Gabriella. I wish I wasn't such a burden…."

"It's okay, Troy. It's going to be okay. Where do we need to go?"

"There's a hallway that… that… that leads to the foundations beneath the football field. Where they do maintenance and… and stuff…. There's a staircase over there…. We can… we can take it… to the surface…." Troy coughed, and blood exploded from his mouth.

Gabriella touched his face. Looked into his eyes. "I'm here with you, Troy. You're going to be alright. Let's go."

Gabriella's words renewed Troy's strength. With her as his support, the two of them exited the room and struggled down the hallway. Troy's coughs were becoming far more frequent. Gabriella's face was beset with concern. After walking for about five minutes, they had come to the staircase that Troy had described. It rose in steady steps to the surface, where the sounds of combat could still be heard.

Troy lost all strength. He fell to his knees. They were so close. But it was all gone. Everything. He couldn't move. He could hardly breathe.

He was about to die.

"Troy! Please. Please don't do this to me, Troy."

"Gabriella, I can't…."

"You can, Troy! You just need to—I don't know—get'cha head in the game, or something like that! I know you can do it. You just have a few steps left."

"One hundred of them. I've counted."

"Come on." Gabriella took his hand, squeezed it tightly, met his eyes. "Remember when we first sang together?"

Troy nodded. "Like… like it was yesterday…."

"Just think of that now. Let it give you strength."

Troy closed his eyes, and his mind was empowered with the strength of the memory. It filled every part of his being. He could see Gabriella now. Nervous. Beautiful. Then he could hear her voice. The richness of the tone. The accuracy of the pitch. Its sweetness and its innocence.

"I wish we were there again."

Gabriella nodded and smiled sadly. "So do I, Troy. More than ever." She offered her other hand. "Are you ready?"

Troy forgot his pain. The moment was everything now. His hand intertwined with hers, and he got to his feet. His body protested, but he disregarded the pain. He took the first step, than the next, than the next. Everything was on fire now. The world was vanishing before his eyes. He was losing consciousness. That couldn't happen. Not now. Not now.

….

….

Just the stairs. Only the stairs. And Gabriella, singing. Angelic voice. Rich brown locks. Eyes. They were brown eyes. Maybe with a touch of amber.

….

The stairs kept coming. Maybe like an advancing army. Maybe like a wave.

….

Everything was dream now. Consciousness, slipping away. Slowly. Slipping. His strength, draining. He didn't know anymore. Someone was speaking in his ear. It must have been Gabriella. But he couldn't hear her over the flames. The flames that burned in his body. And the pain. Oh, the pain. If the pain could speak, it would be screaming….

….

Troy was screaming. The world was screaming. Everything was screaming. The voice, whispering.

_Almost there. Almost there._

….

A bright light. Maybe the sun. It blinded Troy. The stairs stopped. They were in a hallway. The hallway vanished. Grass took its place. The sun again. A mushroom cloud, framed by a darkening sky. Gabriella, at his side.

Troy fell. He could hear again. He could see again. The fire stopped. Everything stopped. It was silent. The mushroom cloud hung there like some giant specter, looming over them. The sun barely escaped its grasp. Barely.

Then, Gabriella gasped and fell faint, hand against her heaving chest. "Troy. Look…."

Troy turned. One moment, East High and its football field were there. The next, they weren't. The earth fell out from beneath them. In great pieces of rubble, the school fell to the ground, vanishing in a cloud of dust. An earth shattering explosion followed, knocking Troy and Gabriella flat.

Everything was gone in an instant. The earth rumbled with a sound like thunder. A wave of dust assailed them. Troy leapt forward and shielded Gabriella with his body. Rubble from the ensuing explosion fell all around them. A piece caught Troy in the shoulder, tearing his shirt, ripping the skin beneath. Another hit his leg. Gabriella sobbed in his protecting arms.

Troy chanced opening his eyes for a moment. It was all chaos. Dust obscured everything. Dark silhouettes of chunks of the building were everywhere, landing in front of them, behind them, to either side of them. He closed his eyes. He couldn't look. Looking would only make his fears worse.

It lasted for a while. Troy didn't know how long. Soon, the dust stopped swirling, the gunfire in the distance ceased, the rubble stopped falling. Troy opened his eyes again. The dust had settled now, and a bleak, torn landscape rent their eyes. He covered his face and wept. All life was siphoned from him by some wicked force, and he was left empty. He wept, curled in a ball.

Everything he had ever cared about was gone. It was just gone. He was beginning to truly realize it for the first time.

Gabriella crawled towards him, fell into his arms. Troy held her close. They cried together for what seemed like an eternity, their only comfort being the other's embrace. They felt like the only two creatures in the world, lost and lonely without friends or a home. They didn't care what happened to them anymore. Everything was over. They had only this final moment with each other, this last chance to experience comfort before the end came.

"I'm so sorry, Gabriella," he cried.

"This wasn't your fault, Troy!" Gabriella whimpered.

"I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. If your mom hadn't moved to Albuquerque, you wouldn't have almost died…."

"But I wouldn't have gotten to see you again, Troy…."

Troy realized how close Gabriella was to him. He felt a sudden longing to live forever with her. To sweep her up and run off with her to get married. It was the silliest notion, he confessed, but it was there. It had come upon him without warning. Perhaps, after everything that had just happened, it was the part of his being that desired for a little "normal."

Gabriella disengaged herself from Troy's embrace and got to her feet. Troy followed. They stood together and surveyed the remains of East High. There weren't many. Only some of the foundation remained, at of that, very little. A giant crater had been formed where the school used to be, and the faint presence of dust could still be seen hovering above it. The smells of smoke and dirt were heavy in the air. Everything felt hot and sticky, and their ears were still ringing.

Troy's hand found Gabriella's. They were silent for a long time. Then a faint humming sound entered their ears, and a minute or two later, they could see several helicopters approaching. The majority of them hovered around the remains of East High, but one of them went towards Troy and Gabriella. A ladder fell. A soldier climbed to the ground.

"You two are lucky to be alive," he said. He gestured toward the ladder and the helicopter. "Up. Quickly. Were there any other survivors?"

"We don't know," Troy replied. "But we haven't seen anyone."

"Thank God the two of you are here, then."

Troy and Gabriella ascended the ladder and each took a seat next to one another in the helicopter. The soldier was right behind them. When everyone was strapped in, they closed the doors and departed.

Then, Troy felt a stab of fear.

Those pilots weren't dressed like soldiers….

No. They were wearing black uniforms. Masks obscuring their faces. Grenades on their belts.

"Gabriella," Troy whispered. Their eyes met. The look on Gabriella's face told Troy everything. She already knew. She leaned her head against his shoulder in resignation and closed her eyes, letting the tears flow.

Troy was sure that this was where his life would end. But at least he got to spend his final hours with Gabriella Montez.

_When we were lifted up into that helicopter, and when I discovered that we weren't flying with friendlies, but with enemies, I realized something important: If I was going to protect myself and Gabriella, I had to get my head in the game. I had to be ready for anything. I had to do what any man should do: Fight to protect the ones I loved. Whether it would kill me or not, I was going try. Get'cha head in the game, Troy Bolton. Get'cha head in the game._

_From the diary of Troy Bolton._


End file.
